My Valentine

Snowy Valentine.jpg

The light in here is too bright for morning
the sunrise peachy glow distorted and squinting
our distinctive beginning comes to me at the same time
both warm and cuspated

knowing your love still exists helps me to
keep on, keep on, and knowing you still love me
bids me not give up

The lights in this room are too dim to read by
in the evening, the aroma of sausage, with its
fennel and thyme, and the acid of tomatoes
keeping things real

the streaks in the sky at sundown leaving
little illumination to stir the sauce pot, little to the
imagination of a pair of love thieves in a jam

And some days we don’t take the time, even to
let eyes meet, but we continue, and
knowing your love still exists
helps me keep on, keep on

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You, bewilder me (nt)

what you say
what you always say
never satisfied
hurting with you
sharing
what is mine is yours

and yours
is also mine
even the ugly
but let’s put
a bandaid on that
and some word salve

you are never satisfied
never satisfied
never satisfied
no contentment
in what your hands hold
always, you are looking, for
what is elusive

so I hunt for you
caring too much, she tells me
trying too hard to be the one, the hero
that carries home the ten point buck
only to be in your sights again
your one–your redemptor

is is possible
so she asks
for someone
with all my inherited good sense
to give up decades
for one glorious pedestal moment
when you see me golden

for better or worse

if there had not been pain
would we have stayed
you and I caught
in our addictions
to cracked ceilings
and thin carpets

I refused to acknowlege
what we both know (now)
to be true
that I could not live
in painless splendor
grabbing at every wish
through barbed wire
and crabgrass

so we remain
decades later
with skinned knees
and ugly, rough knuckles
knowing (until our deaths)
we will never be alone
and it will not (ever)
be easy
but we will (always)
be loved

Everything I owe

I swerve to avert unpleasantness
all the rain I expect will come down on my head
does not fall every day–not always–
for sometimes the day enters with a
merciful step

When I am too much about myself
I enter the room–the house–the day
all that was shiny and bright
seems to have fled me–stomping my foot
I demand like a child–and like a child

I am ashamed when I demolish
my little houses in a row, and
you–watch in horror as I smash
what I had built

Your eyes see mine
and I remember a day when we were as one–
connected by a common thought

that we–together
would build this house

Circling the block

There is a strange tick inside
more than a heartbeat
a staccato beat
that proves I am alive
(seeking more than I can afford)

Wanting someone to hold me
seems normal to me, what
I thought was normal back then
bananas, fruit flies circling–
car outside, tires flat

But you, you circle the block
waiting for me
wondering when will she be
someone that can cross the street
without holding another hand

Don’t tell me it is not worth it
when every living person is trying
to get at that brass ring
mine for awhile (until
I found it was made of cake)

It fell apart during our first rain
My reign
make it durable for me
able to weather
whatever comes

Hold my hand
break my heart
drive me around the block
take me where you’re going
I’ll be quiet–I’ll be good

(I won’t ask for much)

only everything

(I won’t tug at you much)

only every day